خروس Rooster
by SecretFruits
Summary: A research trip takes Newt to Iran. There he meets an old friend, and a seemingly uninteresting creature.


Written for the Hogwarts Houses Competition Big Bonus Round

House: Gryffindor

Category: Fire

Prompts: Hope (emotion)

Word count: 2247

HPFC: Spill the Cup Challenge (friendship) and Alphabet Challenge (loveseat)

This is Chapter 2 of a multichapter story. While it can be read as a standalone piece, the reader will gain much more enjoyment out of Newt's research trip by reading Chapter 1, written by TheoreticalOptimist, and Chapter 3, by Kurotsuba.

* * *

خروس **~Rooster~**

"It's good to see you, Kamran."

Kamran mixed a spoonful of sugar into the coffee pot before setting two cups on the table. They were both peony blue, patterned with tiny white roosters. "And you, Newt. How is Tina? How are the little ones?" As he spoke, the coffee poured itself into both cups.

"All doing well." Newt sipped, enjoying the warmth on his tongue. "I think Tina misses the States though. And our youngest is set on attending Ilvermony."

Kamran had not attended Hogwarts, but Newt had no doubt that if he had, he would have been a Hufflepuff. His brown eyes always shown with cheerful kindness. In his youth, his dark hair and tanned, toned body had marked him as handsome, and in middle age, his warm smile easily attracted friends. And he had a quick mind, but it was his dedication which had elevated him to the status of Head of World Potioneers. Though, from his cozy cottage, one might have mistaken him for a simple farmer.

"And how about you? Anisa is twelve now, isn't she?"

"She is. And just had her first heartbreak." He laughed. "She'll be here this weekend. She's thrilled to see her Uncle Newt." Taking a sip, he added, "Amira was hers first, you know." Seeing Newt's confused expression, he clarified, "Amira is the rooster's name."

Newt nodded in understanding. "I brought her some gifts. Anisa, that is. And for you and your wife as well."

"Oh, Newt." Kamran patted his shoulder. "Your company is gift enough."

* * *

Busy with tales of work and their families, Kamran didn't take Newt to meet Amira all afternoon. Newt didn't mind - he enjoyed catching up with his friend, and now that his children were older, he could schedule longer trips with far less worry.

Selma, Kamran's wife, returned from working at the hospital in the early evening, and the two chatted as Kamran cooked dinner. As the smells of spiced lamb filled the house, Newt heard the crowing of the rooster for the first time.

"That'll be Amira." Selma stroked a rose-and-peach cushion on the loveseat-turned-divan, smiling contently. "That means the sun is going down." She inhaled, and her smile widened. "My husband is the best cook."

Newt grinned. "That is true."

As if on cue, Kamran called out to them. "Supper is served!" He pulled out a chair for his guest, and then his wife, and then finally he seated himself, the dishes opening as he did so. "Lamb stew and fish." He indicated two steaming pots. "And yoghurt."

The food was delicious. Even the yogurt was spiced perfectly, it's coolness a perfect contrast to the spiciness of the rest of the meal. For a few moments the three were silent, Selma clearly ravenous after the day's work. Then finally she broke the silence. "Newt? You have quite the job cut out for you?"

"Oh?" Newt raised his eyebrows.

"Amira has never made fire for anyone. Other than Anisa, that is." She took a bite, swallowing before continuing. "And that was years ago."

"Come, Selma!" Pretending to be outraged, Kamran clapped his friend's shoulder. "If anyone can get Amira to make fire, it's our Newt!"

Like her husband, Selma was kind and respected, and that kindness showed on her face. But she did not share his boundless optimism. "If anyone can, it is Newt. But _can_ anyone?"

"I don't doubt it for an _instant._ " Kamran ladled more stew onto Newt's place. "Eat up, my brother." He leaned back into his chair, but the stewed continued ladling itself. "You know, there's many who don't believe our story."

Selma nodded. "If I hadn't seen it myself, I don't know that _I_ would have." She stopped the ladle, which had nearly overflown Newt's plate. "It is a rather incredible story. True _Khrvs_ are rare. Sightings are a few times a century. Many only make fire once in their life."

* * *

Newt rose early the next day. It was Amira who woke him, crowing as the October sun crept into the guest room.

Despite being just past dawn, it wasn't chilly near the coop. In fact, the shade from the date tree overhead was welcome.

The whole scene was underwhelming. The coop was a simple structure, barely larger than a doghouse and made mostly from wire. While it certainly looked well cared for - the red and white paint was sharp and the hay was fresh - it lacked the cozy charm of the house. And while the roosters on their teacups had been so white that they glowed, Amira's feathers stuck out at odd angles, and she was more of a white-grey. She crowed as Newt entered, but it was not an elegant sound. In fact, it sounded almost like a frog's croak.

The powers of a true _Khrv_ are said to rival, even surpass, those of a phoenix. Newt thought of Fawkes, magnificent and fiery in Albus Dumbledore's office. On the surface, Amira did not look like much of a rival.

Newt felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. This was going to be _fun._

* * *

Kamran allowed Newt full access to his potions store. He worked at home rather than at the Iranian Ministry of Magic, insisting it was his duty as a host. Selma apologized that she couldn't take time off, but promised a tour of the city on the weekend. But the truth was that Newt would have been far too distracted with both his friends at home.

And he needed to think. He'd started with the physical things - sprinkling Fuego Powder in Amira's hay and feeding her Ashwinder eggs - but the rooster looked as dull as ever. Then he'd charmed the coop to rain heavily, but that had only resulted in a wet, irate rooster. By the end of the week he'd tried everything from conjuring bluebell flames to doing every fire dance and fire ceremony he'd ever encountered, to no avail.

His friendship with Kamran granted him access to the Grand Library of Iran, where he confirmed and reconfirmed his research. Many stories of _Khrv_ involved water - the story of Amir, the merchant, who was saved from drowning by the magnificent _Khrv_ who enveloped him in her fire; the story of Godric Gryffindor himself, whose ship was kept from capsizing by a _Khrv;_ and Anisa's own tale. But just as many did not - _Khrvs_ had saved lost children from the desert, or rescued men and women from giants in the mountains.

Friday evening, Newt asked Kamran and Selma to retell their story. "I know it's sensitive, friends. But I think it will help."

Kamran sighed. The three of them were sitting under the date tree, sipping cool, rose-flavored _falooda_ as the sun went down. "Anisa was three. Selma had just returned to work at the hospital, and I wasn't yet a Master in my field. We were young, and worked long. My mother would watch Anisa during the day, bless her. But Muggle Iran has suffered a great deal of instability these past few years, and we worried about both of them.

"The hospital and ministry are close enough that Selma and I sometimes meet for lunch. It was mid-January, pouring and cold, so we dived into the first cafe we saw. At first it just was a normal lunch - we discussed work, and talked about perhaps visiting Selma's father. Then we heard an explosion. Immediately we were flooded with patronuses from the Ministry, telling us to take shelter.

"For an hour, we couldn't leave the coffee shop. By then we were shivering with worry. We'd sent patronuses home, but my mother had sent nothing. The Ministry district is zoned against Apparition, but Ministry employees have emergency Portkeys and then was as much an emergency as ever.

"We arrived home to find that the wards on the neighborhood had held - the house was intact. But Anisa was gone, and my mother was collapsed on the floor. Selma checked she was breathing, then got her to the hospital. I went searching. I hoped she had only run off, but I knew the possibilities were far worse.

"By evening we had searched every inch of the town and sent out more spells and owls and patronuses than you can imagine. And it was raining harder and harder. By nightfall, the Ward Wizards had strengthened the protections around Wizarding Iran, and we went to beg for the Ministry's help. They could only spare a few Aurors, but it was something. For three days, neither Selma nor I slept. Finally, late at night on the third day, I broke down and cried, and then Selma started crying too. The rain hadn't abated. We just stood soaked in the street, sobbing and hugging each other.

"Then after hours, the sun peaked over the horizon. We were filled with a new resolve. We would get our daughter back, no matter the cost. And then I saw it. An orange light in the distance. It started out as a tiny spec on the horizon, but as we walked towards it it grew and grew. By the time we came face to face with it, it was the size of our house. It was Amira, turned into a flaming golden ball, and nestled in her wings was Anisa."

Selma wiped away a tear. "I hope to never feel such fear again. Anisa remembers none of it, you know?"

"UNCLE NEWT!"

Just then, a slender pre-teen in silky purple robes erupted into the garden, arms flailing wildly. Newt stood up and opened his arms wide, noting that she looked more and more like her father every day. "Anisa!"

She squeezed him enthusiastically. "Uncle NEWT! Munira is _so_ jealous that I know you. I promised her I'd get your autograph. Oh, can we go to the bazaar like last time? Can I show you my room? Have you ever been to Australia? I want to go to Australia. Papa said he'd take me on the Potions tour. What is Hogwarts like? Is the food as good? Where's Aunt Tina? Will Aunt Queenie make me hot chocolate -"

Selma held up her hand, barely holding back her laughter. " _Anisa!_ Manners! Let Uncle Newt breathe."

"Sorry, Uncle." Anisa molded her face into an expression of solemnity. "May I make you some tea? Perhaps some _Kachi_? Or we can pick fresh dates? Or I could take you to the bazaar -"

Newt ruffled her hair. "That sounds _lovely,_ Anisa. Your Aunt Tina and my children will be here tomorrow. Now why don't you tell me about school?"

* * *

The weekend sped by. They went about the city. The children - led by a delighted Anisa - loaded up on souvenirs and sweets. Queenie begged Kamran to teach her all the secrets of Persian cooking, and Tina learned Iranian healing techniques from Salma. Anisa left for school Sunday night, and then Newt's family left Monday, amidst choruses of promises that the two families would reunite soon.

And then the week sped by. Amira was as unlit as ever. Worse, whenever Newt entered the coop she would preen and croak in a manner which made him feel she was laughing at him.

Newt focused most of his efforts around dawn, because that was when Amira had made fire last. After almost two weeks, Amira let Newt stroke her. "Now, you are a pretty thing, aren't you?"

She let out a "buck" in response, then curled contentedly into a pile of hay.

"Must have been _magnificent_ when you rescued Anisa?" Newt sat down beside her, sinking uncomfortably far into the hay. "I know another creature like you. A phoenix. Maybe you would like him."

Rays of sunlight were flitting into the room. Newt's spirits sunk. Had he lost another chance? He thought of Tina. His family missed him, on his long trips away. Maybe he could arrange a Floo to see them this weekend. He'd bring Kamran and Selma; Tina would like that.

He thought about Tina, about how brave she was. Tina the Auror. He remembered their first forty eight hours together, how she'd nearly stepped into that dark pool at the Ministry...an inhuman punishment, really…

What if, instead of Tina, it had been one of his children? He'd been in far more danger in his life than Kamran or Selma, but they had lived three days of a hell he couldn't imagine.

Anisa was so bubbly now. She had no memory of the event. Maybe that was the _Khrv's_ greatest gift.

It crowed, and Newt fingered the hay, trying to imagine his friends' fear. Next to that, his worries about getting a bird to make fire seemed so silly. His frustration melted away, replaced by a steadfast determination. _Of course_ he would figure this out! Humans overcame so much. _He_ had overcome so much.

He looked at the bird, filled with a new hope. And then its feathers brightened, and when it opened its beak, a soft yellow flame emerged.

Newt smiled softly. He understood now, and it was all he needed. He had other places to be. Home, for instance. And then maybe Japan.

* * *

Years later, Anisa found a scrap of parchment tucked into her copy of _Fantastic Beasts._ It didn't take her long to recognize her Uncle Newt's handwriting.

 _Dearest Anisa,_

 _The Khrv brings you fire when you bring it hope. Try not to get lost again._


End file.
